


petite monnaie

by nap_princess



Series: Chloé-centric [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, ChloéAdrien friendship, ChloéSabrina friendship, Gen, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 12:39:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15073343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nap_princess/pseuds/nap_princess
Summary: "Are you going for the reunion?" Adrien asks, twenty-five and counting.And Chloé asks back, "What reunion?""The one for Collège Françoise Dupont."/A voice whispers into her dreams, and Chloé Bourgeois finds herself waking up covered in cold sweat and mascara tears– Chloé and Adrien-centric





	petite monnaie

** _petite monnaie_ **

* * *

translation

_petite monnaie_ means small change

* * *

  “You’re so mean, Chloé.” A voice whispers into her dreams. “Don’t talk to me ever again.” And Chloé Bourgeois finds herself waking up covered in cold sweat and mascara tears.

* * *

"Adrien, who are you in love with?" Chloé asks the question like it’s as normal as asking the weather in Paris. She’s at the age of twenty-five and counting.

The blonde woman takes a near-by paper napkin and dabs it on the top of her greasy pizza. Yes, she was _those kind of people_ who would do such a thing just to get rid of 35 calories. Chloé had done it more religiously after she had devoted a part of her life to becoming a teenage super heroine. Emphasizing on the ‘teenage’ part because now she’s in her mid-twenties and very much a young adult. Regardless, she stuck to the strict balanced diet for health purposes (but, then again, Chloé never did like eating pizza).

They – she and Adrien Agreste – are sitting across from each other at some small café. This isn't exactly the place either Adrien or Chloé would ever catch themselves eating but it’s Winter and it's cold and, the wind is ruthless and willing to blow anyone away. So warm carbs and hot chocolate will do for today.

Chloé waits for the answer to her question and blinks, there are snowflakes in her long, blonde eyelashes.

Adrien looks at his hot chocolate, then out the window, then at Chloé's blue eyes. They aren’t as icy as they use to be.

Chloé says after a moment of chewing and swallowing her pizza, “I mean, I’ve never seen you date anyone, _ever_. I know you’ve had crushes in the past so I know you’re not hopeless in love. And after teetering back and forth, I came to the conclusion that you’re devoted to one person, so I have to ask you who.”

He answers, "... Ladybug," The tips of his ears are as red as the said super heroine's suit as he says that single word.

"Ladybug?" Chloé hums, moving her finger around the rim of her mug.

They both know that there have been two new Ladybugs since their retirement but they know exactly which Ladybug they’re talking about. Paris’s Ladybug. _Their_ Ladybug.

"Ladybug?" Chloé echoes again and presses her lips together.

It's ...

Chloé leans her head against her arm, pressing her lips against the insides of her wrist. She doesn't feel like taking today (she can't be bothered) she **wants** to be willing to listen but there are a million and one things on her mind and she has to say something.

Because, the thing is, they're working adults now, and – _Don’t you think that’s too late?_ Chloé wants to ask but doesn’t. Instead, she says, “It’s been ten years. It’s unrealistic.”

Chloé still feels like Adrien is a dreamer. He hasn't changed much since they were kids, Chloé on the other hand is glad that her experience as Queen Bee has matured her (because looking back, she was a real brat).

“Unrealistic?” Adrien hums back, not offended, never mad. “Maybe?” He hums.

Once upon a time, what realistic meant to Chloé was him and her, who were both raised with similar backgrounds – wealthily surrounded by luxury while having a short-hand of missing mothers and powerful fathers – who knew each other’s superhero identities. But now realistic would mean in Chloé’s eyes … (let’s say) ... Adrien and Marinette Dupain-Cheng (because, at least Marinette is still within Adrien's grasp unlike Ladybug). But there’s also the issue of _if_ Marinette can form proper sentences around the blonde man.

.

.

.

But, of course, Chloé doesn't know about the whole love square issue.

.

.

.

Because no one knows who Ladybug’s real identity is.

.

.

.

“Are you going for the reunion?” Adrien asks, helping himself to pancakes.

Pancakes; something that Chloé can’t help but reel back to. The fact that pancakes should **never** be in his ‘healthy model’ diet. But then she reminds herself, they’re at the age where there's no one to flutter over them anymore. Not even their fathers, not that there is a need to, they're _grown_. And, Adrien’s a physicist now so who cares?

“What reunion?” Chloé asks back, her sharp jaw resting in her soft palm. She’s looking out the window while the rain is pitter-pattering outside. She feels like she’s in one of those dumb, sad music videos or a movie about heart-broken romance, while in reality, she’s just waiting for her hot chocolate to cool off.

(If only she could concentrate for a second about reality and past because she’s been switching back and forth for far too long and –)

“The one for Collège Françoise Dupont.” Adrien’s voice brings her back to the café and the rain and the pizza she’s taken two bites off.

At this, Chloé’s blue eyes snap away from the window and her head jerks upwards, away from her open palm. “What?”

“Yeah, it’s been a decade since we graduated.” Adrien says, now reminding Chloé of the ten years that has passed.

And Chloé doesn’t know **why** Adrien’s counting the years since their teenage days, most people are usually  relieved to forget that part of their lives (not that _she_ ’s stopped doing it either, anyway).

“Um,” Chloé chews on the inside of her cheek, anxiety attacking her, crawling all over her body. (She’s still kind of avoiding …) She doesn't let her thoughts finish and mutters, "I don't know. I was so horrible to everyone back then –"

“It’s funny that you asked me about Ladybug earlier.” Adrien cuts in, not to be rude or anything, but it’s to stop Chloé from doubting her old self.

The blonde quips, “It wasn’t _exactly_ about Ladybug.”

“Yeah, well,” Adrien rolls his green eyes.

Green, the colour of soft mint ice-cream, not sea green like –

“Ladybug said she’d met us – everyone who was in our Miraculous team – in person.” Adrien says this part in a whisper, they _are_ in a public area, then gestures to his e-mail.

(Yeah, they made e-mails just for a chance for a superhero get together. What else could they use now that they didn’t have their miraculous devices anymore?)

“In person?” Chloé mimics like a parrot. She hasn’t been attached to her phone in a while. There was no need when only two people talk to her; just her dearest Daddy and Adrien.

Plus, looking at e-mails just made her feel old, _super_ old –

“Wait,” Chloé holds out her hand. “She’s meeting us **at** _Collège Françoise Dupont_? Why? Was she a student in our middle school?”

“Yup,” He pops the ‘P’ as he says this, clearly amused that the news has clicked to Chloé.

“She was _right_ under our noses the whole time?”

Adrien lets out a laugh, “I know, right? What were the odds that three Miraculous holders were in the same school? I wonder about the others though. Imagine if all the miraculous holders were in the same school, minus Hawkmoth and Master Fu, of course.”

“There are too many Miraculous holders to count.” Chloé waves her hand at that likelihood.

“Just our group then, the five of us.”

“Hmm,” Then Chloé touches her forehead at a realization, “… Adrien, how did Ladybug know … How did she know we were students at Collège Françoise Dupont?”

“I … kind of told her …?”

“Adrien!” Chloé scolds. “How could you?! Are you for real?!”

“It’s not like – It’s not –” Adrien sputters, glaring at his pancakes to avoid looking at Chloé. “It’s not like anyone _bad_ would go after us. It’s _Ladybug_. It’s _our_ Ladybug –”

“Have you been talking to Ladybug all this while?”

“Sometimes …” Adrien admits, shoulders squared out of guilt. “I mean, the e-mail account exists for a reason –”

“Oh my God!”

“So you’re coming with me then?” Adrien asks, pleading.

“What?” Say – _what?!_

“Please come for the reunion, Chlo.” The fact that he added her nickname like that just made it even more _personal_. How cruel! She stopped calling him that embarrassing ‘Adrikins’ nickname after they turned seventeen!

And suddenly, anxiety builds up in the pit of Chloé’s stomach again. It attacks and spreads. She feels it _spread_ and she think she’s  shaking because her cup of now cold ‘hot’ chocolate just looks like it’s quivering.

“I –” Words clog themselves in her throat. She picks up her drink just to do something. She doesn’t want Adrien to notice the state she’s in. Forget the pizza, Adrien can have it along with his pancakes, he can eat whatever the hell he wants –

“Chloé, are you –”

“I’m _fine_. It’s Winter, I'm just cold!” She snaps. _Actually_ , snaps (she didn’t mean to snap). Then she wraps her jacket tighter around her body, and blinks and hopes it’s just melted snowflakes in her eyelashes and not tears. “I’ll think about it.”

* * *

That unexpected lunch brought nothing but a troubled evening and an equally troubled dream to a certain blonde, a certain ex Queen Bee. It brings her back to her undoing herself from Sabrina Raincomprix.

.

.

.

"You listen to me, Chlo, and you listen well." Dream Adrien says, grabbing Chloé around the wrist, keeping her still. Even if this was some nightmare, _all in her head_ , everything felt so real. So real that Chloé couldn't pull away. "I don't want you living life thinking the reason you don't have friends is because you're ugly or dull or boring because you aren't, Chloé."

And though what he says seems sweet, Chloé feels the same dread in the pit of her stomach. It's coming. Whatever bad news that is going to be said next, it's coming.

Dream Adrien continues talking, holding her, being angry, "Because, God, Chloé, you aren't. You're absolutely stunning. You're fashionably creative and smart and beautiful. Do you remember being fourteen and having three guys crush on you for a whole year? _Do you?_ " Dream Adrien asks.

A part of Chloé doesn't want to hear it because it's _painful_. Oh so _very painful_ to relive the days back when **they** were so very very close and she was mean mean mean.

"Do you remember putting gum on Marinette's chair? Do you remember trying to get Alya expelled? Do you remember getting half of Paris akumatized?"

_Stop._

"Chloé, are you listening?"

With her blue eyes squeezed shut, Chloé shakes her head.

"Well, you  _need_  to. You  **need**  to listen to this because you need to know that no one is going to care that you're rich or the mayor's daughter or any of that once you get older, once you age. This is a wake up call, Chloé.” And now he’s shouting. “You  _can't_  just have Sabrina by your side! You can't put _everything_ on her, you  **can't**  do that to her, Chloé! She can’t continue being your all-purpose-girl!"

"Shut up!"

Just  _stop_.

"Chloé –”

"No."

"Chloé!"

Chloé yells, finally snapping her eyes open but the Adrien standing in front of her isn't the Adrien she knows. The Adrien she knows would never say such – such _mean_ things. "Sabrina isn't even by my side anymore! You know that! YOU KNOW THAT, ADRIEN!”

"Chloé!" Her name slices through her angry cries and comes crashing down on her. "Chloé, you need to know the reason behind your loneliness! You need to know that it was because you were mean!" Dream Adrien says now, taking advantage of her fragile state. "You're so mean, Chloé Bourgeois! And that drove everyone away from you. _Everyone._ Sabrina, especially. I’ll probably slip away soon too, why should I stay? Why should I be friends with a mean person?”

Oh God, this nightmare sucks. It sucks it sucks it sucks –

And suddenly they’re young again, probably ten. She has Mr Snuggles in her hands and _Adrien still has his mom,_ he’s happy and bright and – Wait, weren’t they just twenty-five and counting?

Ten year old Chloé shouts, “I know that! I know I have _no one_ , Adrien! No one –!”

“You have me.” He says, the face of innocence. “You have me and your dad. That’s not ‘no one’.”

Chloé didn’t think she could get even more frustrated. Why is he playing nice now? Why is he even still nice to her? After everything _she is_ , everything dream Adrien had just reminded her of what she had done; the lies and the trouble she brought to her classmates and the akumas. She’s been so …

Shaking her head, Chloé ignores the niceness.

Suddenly. _Suddenly_ , they’re teenagers again, now standing in front of their classroom and a gum full of chair – no, wait, that was wrong – a chair full of gum and – Hey, look, it’s Marinette. A _very hurt_ Marinette, no – it’s sweet Marinette and brave Ladybug looking at her. They look so disappointed in her. _Everyone_ looks so disappointed in her and where –

Where’s Sabrina when Chloé needs her? _Where’s her best friend._

“Sabrina?” Chloé calls, desperate. She needs Sabrina, she needs her all-purpose-girl.

“ _Don’t._ ” Dream (real?) Sabrina warns, fifteen and bright and too beaten down for her age.

“Sabrina –”

“Don’t talk to me ever again, Chloé Bourgeois.”

“I’m sorry, Sabrina. I’m so so so sorry –”

“Chloé.” Dream Adrien cuts in, and now it’s just them and a dark room. This dream, it’s a place of actual feelings. It’s come to haunt her and claim her mistakes.

"Chloé." And, oh, will he stop saying her name like that?

Chloé ignores it all and says, “I know I'm mean, _I know_! Stop reminding me! Stop it!"

" _Chloé_." He keeps calling her name.

"What do you want from me?" She asks and even though she knows this is all fake, her tears are real.

“I want you to change, Chloé. I want you to be nice.”

“But I _am_ nice!” Chloé says and it’s sincere. She is nice, she’s turned nice after becoming Queen Bee. She’s saved lives and become humble and not caused anymore trouble. The only problem is; people don’t believe her.

They just **don’t** believe her.

And honestly, _honestly,_ she **doesn’t** blame them. She doesn’t blame **anyone**. After everything she's said, everything's she's done. She probably deserves all of it – it’s karma biting her back in the butt.

“I’m not nice, am I?”

Dream Adrien doesn’t answer. He just stays (like the real Adrien).

* * *

“It’s Sabrina,” Adrien whispers into Chloé’s ear on the day of Collège Françoise Dupont’s ten year reunion after breaking away from a hug with Nino. “Go say ‘hi’ to her.”

Choe’s face colours. “I can’t.” She decides this even before trying and it’s so unlike her. She used to be _so_ determined, even if it was for the wrong reasons. She used to be filled with fire.

“Sure you can.” He says gently, such a kind person he is.

And a part of her is stunned that he’s _still_ by her side after all the stunts she’s pulled – after all the tantrums and selfish acts and cruel words. She never thought of anyone but herself for so long yet Adrien has always been thinking about others, even now. If she was in his shoes, or anyone that’s ever had the unfortunate chance of meeting her back when she was selfish, she would have leave leave leave without looking back.

Chloé sucks in a deep breath and tries not to chicken out. “I can?” She asks.

“You can,” He says and nudges Chloé towards the ginger woman.

And just like in the movies, Sabrina’s sea green eyes snap towards Chloé’s blue ones. A feeling at the pit of the blonde’s stomach drops to her toes. Chloé tries to push away the past, all the things she’s done towards her former best friend; all the times she’s deemed Sabrina incompetent, all the harsh reprimands, the too-normalized arguments.

(No new brooch can fix the past)

“Hello, Sabrina.” Chloé says, too meekly to be the mirror of her past.

Sabrina’s eyes searches Chloé, sweeping over the blonde from head to toe. In Chloé’s head, that was Sabrina trying to find and pick a flaw in her current state (but that could just be Chloé playing tricks on herself).

Green eyes stop searching and crinkle and soften. “Hi, Chlo.”

And, she’s not saying she _almost_ cried, but she could have because –

“You called me by my nickname.” Chloé states, and she feels so dumb for throwing her best friend, everything, away.

* * *

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> Can you believe I wrote this because I wanted Chloé to eat pizza?
> 
> It's finally Summer and I'm talking about Winter for once instead of cliché hot Summer where shit goes down! It's a miracle!
> 
> – 27 June 2018


End file.
